


Unwilling to Yield

by Regency



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angry PTA moms take on the patriarchy, Berena Appreciation Week, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash, Women Sticking Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11687301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency
Summary: AU. Serena and Bernie are brought together when their daughters get into a fight at school. But the fight isn’t with each other and there are much more worrying dangers at St. Barnabas Secondary than either mother imagined.





	Unwilling to Yield

**Author's Note:**

> **Berena Appreciation Week | Day 3 | Prompt:** _Pre-Series_ (kinda)
> 
> See the end for more detailed warnings.
> 
> I also bungled the school set-up, so just...roll with it.

Bernie arrived at Holby International Airport to no welcoming party. It was the middle of the day, Marcus had an intensive procedure scheduled, and the children were in school. Bernie was debating the pros and cons of lugging her rucksack to the nearest Indian restaurant for the biryani she had been craving since leaving eight months ago or going straight home to sleep off the jet lag and ordering takeaway later. The decision was taken out of her hands when her mobile, newly charged after a long hibernation, lit up with a call from Marcus in theater: Charlotte had been in a schoolyard tussle and needed to be collected.

Bernie didn’t have time to question the matter before her husband rung off. Her shy, non-confrontational Charlotte in a fight?  Bernie’s stomach turned itself inside out as she hailed a taxi to ferry her on the long drive to St. Barnabas Secondary School where her daughter was in her fourth year.  Four years and not one complaint against Charlotte, this was beyond comprehension.  Bernie quelled the voice inside her wondering if she’d been too fortunate and Charlotte was finally beginning to rebel against Bernie’s part-time parenthood. She couldn’t dispute the timing.

When she arrived at the St. Barnabas administrative office she was directed to a bench outside the headmaster’s office to wait like a troublesome student. There were evidently other parents getting unhappy tidings today. One of them, it seemed to Bernie, was furious about it. There was some deep-voiced shouting countered by a more moderate, even tone that had to be the headmaster, Mr. Satterthwaite.

The administrative assistant manning the front desk kept shooting concerned looks at the door as if she worried violence might erupt.  Bernie began to question just what sort of school she and Marcus were sending their child to. Cameron had come through St. Barney’s with the usual rebellions; defense of the undefended, ethical stands against the dress code, and peaceful protests against foreign intervention with the other political junkies of his year (that had led to some tense evenings at home). He had been the exciting one whereas Charlotte had been quiet, reliable, content to keep to her books and private projects. Charlotte cared for things as passionately as Cameron, but not with her fists.  It worried Bernie to think her girl could change so drastically in eight months’ time.

Bernie’s contemplation of the matter eventually caught up with her and she nodded off on the hard, unyielding craftsman bench seat.  She’d easily slept in harsher, less comfortable conditions; this was an improvement over the transport plane, surely. She only awoke when a passing figure blocked the overhead light and roused her from her light sleep. A woman in blue consultant’s scrubs joined her on the bench.  She was disheveled, her short-cut brown hair askew.  Her first act on realizing she’d woken Bernie was to offer her apologies. Her second was to offer Bernie her hand.

“Called you in, too, did they? Serena Campbell, your partner is parental strife.”

“Bernie Wolfe. Welcome to the war. Let’s hope it’s a short one.”

“I’d say you’ve probably done your time.” She gestured toward Bernie’s fatigues.  “Just home?”

“Quite. This wasn’t the welcoming committee I was envisioning.”

“I wouldn’t think so.” Serena sighed.  “Bets on what happened?”

“I sincerely hope it wasn’t about a boy.”

“If it was, she’s grounded until she gets a First in  _something_. I don’t care if I have to personally escort her to and from class.”

Bernie chuckled.  She’d been hoping to skip the boy-addled years with Charlotte and go straight to her being a reasonable, level-headed adult who just happened to fancy men. It wasn’t that Bernie doubted Marcus’ ability to look after their daughter on his own, it was just that Bernie knew things about being a young girl that Marcus couldn’t possibly understand. There were expectations and pressures that weighed on girls, ones that could wreck their sense of self if allowed to run unchecked by reason and well-timed support.  She wanted Charlotte to make her own choices--emphasis on the word  _choices._  Bernie would support her in anything if Charlotte felt herself ready, but fighting over a boy was out of the question.

Fighting over a girl, however....Well, Bernie might have a bit more sympathy for that.

“Your daughter prone to scraps?” It didn’t hurt to gather a bit of intelligence. Girls could be hard on each other in the early days before they realized how much they’d need each other.

“Not mine. Elinor’s got a poison tongue, but she’s never been one to scuffle. It isn’t her style. She prefers to make her enemies quail in humiliation than land a TKO in the ring.” Serena smirked. “She gets that from my side of the family.”

Bernie gave a her look of cool assessment.

Serena wiggled her fingers. “Surgeon, can’t risk the hands.”

Bernie conceded. “Same here. That doesn’t mean I can’t throw a mean right hook when it’s called for.”

“Oh no, that’s a necessary life skill.”

“Try telling my husband that.”

“What do husbands know?”

“Precisely.”

They laughed but their laughter eventually petered off into deep yawns. Serena huddled into the oversize grey hoodie she wore that read Holby City Hospital on the breast. She looked as though she’d come straight out of theater. Her hands were scrubbed rough and raw, and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. She looked as tired as Bernie felt though she was no less striking for the dark circles under her eyes.

“You think they’ll keep us waiting much longer?”

“I hope not. I’d love to sleep some time in the next month.”  Bernie tried to compress as much recovery time into her first week home as possible to maximize her time with her family between deployments, only it felt like it was taking her longer and longer to recover as she aged. She wasn’t prepared to slow down yet.

After what felt like an hour, the headmaster’s door was flung open to eject a well-dressed man and woman and an older teenage boy soaked to the skin. They strode past the women without so much as a token acknowledgement.

“Bet he’s had a day,” Serena remarked.

“It must have taken a nosedive from bad to worse.” Bernie pursed her lips. Serena chuckled at the look on her face. It was inevitable they’d set each other off.  They ended up giggling over the poor lad’s plight. He scarcely looked the worse for wear; Bernie wasn’t too fussed about it.

Mr. Satterthwaite appeared behind them. He was a tall man who reminded Bernie of some of her superiors when she was farther down the food chain. He wore glasses and bore a mustache beginning to go grey.

“Ms. Wolfe, Ms. Campbell, please come in.”

They shared an uneasy look. Evidently there was just one big event happening today and it involved both their children as Bernie had suspected.  Bernie snatched up her rucksack and followed the other woman into the office. They both stopped short at seeing their daughters seated in armchairs to the side of the headmaster’s large desk.

Bernie rounded on the headmaster as he shut his door.  “You’ve had my daughter here without me?”

Serena planted her hands on her hips.  “That isn’t in the Parents’ Handbook. It states very clearly that students aren’t to be subjected to this level of disciplinary action without parental attendance. What exactly are you playing at?”

“Mum!” protested the girl with auburn hair and a recognizable chin. She sounded embarrassed.

“Not now, Elinor. I’m  _waiting_.”

“As am I.  Why wasn’t I brought to my daughter right away? Am I right to think the student who left when we arrived is involved and, if so, why wasn’t I permitted to sit in on that meeting?”

The headmaster neatly sidestepped Bernie’s questions and ignored Serena’s outright. “There are a few matters we must attend to this afternoon. If you’d both like to take a seat.” He gestured toward the empty chairs in front of his desk. Bernie elected to stand. Serena also refused the offered seat.

“I don’t like deviations from standard procedure without explanation, Mr. Satterthwaite. I’ll sit when I’m satisfied.”

The headmaster’s mustache twitched as he took his vaunted place behind his desk. “Ms. Campbell, we can dispense with the histrionics.”

“ _Can_  we?”

He ignored Serena’s acerbic barb as though she hadn’t spoken.   “The matter is largely settled by now; we need only discuss punishment and restitution.”

“Punishment?” Bernie questioned. “I don’t even know what’s happened yet.”

“As you were both informed by the front office, your daughters engaged in violent, bullying activity toward another St. Barnabas student.”

“Hang on,” Bernie interrupted. “I was told my daughter got into a fight. Now, you’re saying my daughter is a violent bully. That’s a far cry from mutual combat. Will you please explain what’s going on, from the beginning?”

“As I said--”

Serena cut him off. “You haven’t actually said anything of use yet, but please go on.”

He harrumphed his displeasure.  “As I said, the girls were seen perpetrating violence against a fellow student. Their actions were observed by a hall monitor during their free period and they were reported to me for disciplinary action.”

“Bullying?” Serena asked her daughter. “Elinor, what on Earth?”

Elinor crossed her arms and slumped in her chair. She had the truculent look of somebody used to getting her way.  “We weren’t bullying him. He started it, we finished it! He deserved to be pushed in the lake and I won’t apologize. I don’t care who his parents are.”

Charlotte, seated beside her, said nothing.

“Charlotte, what is going on? Fighting, bullying, violence, this isn’t like you.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Elinor said to fill Charlotte’s silence. “She did nothing wrong. Neither of us did. It was self-defense.”

“Elinor,” Mr. Satterthwaite warned, “we’ve discussed your tendency to embellish the truth for fear of punishment.”

“So I tell a few white lies and suddenly a whale of tale goes unbelieved. Whatever, I don’t care if you believe me. He deserved it. He’s  _horrible_.” She growled the last word with chilling conviction, the sort that was nigh on impossible to fabricate from nothing.

Klaxon sirens began to sound in Bernie’s head and it wasn’t just her low blood sugar talking. She rubbed her brow to clear the noise and static. Something was very wrong with this picture.  “I’ve just got off an almost nine-hour flight from Kabul and I’m not at my best. Tell me why I’m here, tell me exactly what’s happened-- _quickly_.  I’d like to take my daughter home soon.”

Serena concurred. “I’ve been in theater six hours.  A straightforward explanation would do nicely.”

“Ms. Wolfe--”

“Captain,” she corrected. She was done letting him slide when he was beginning to look like the problem.

He wavered. “Erm, Captain Wolfe and Ms. Campbell, your daughters were engaged in an unacceptable display of violence this afternoon during their free period.”

“As I said before, my daughter isn’t the least bit violent,” Bernie rebutted as Serena spoke similarly of Elinor while giving her daughter a puzzled look. Charlotte attempted to disappear into her seat. Elinor raised her chin in defiance and crossed her arms.  She was perfectly content to stand her ground on the matter, for both of them.

“I’m afraid, we have multiple accounts of Charlotte and Elinor striking another student and pushing him into the lake on school grounds. As you know, we have a zero tolerance policy toward this kind of beh--”

“This is the third time you’ve mentioned another student. A male student, correct? The student from before?” Serena sounded intrigued. Bernie picked up on her train of thought effortlessly. Where there was a boy and two irate girls there was sure to be mischief.

“What did he do?”

“It hardly matters--”

“That’s where we disagree, Mr. Satterthwaite. I know my daughter, she wouldn’t lash out without reason and she isn’t the type to get swept up in group think--I raised her better than that. I’ll reiterate Ms. Campbell’s inquiry, what did the boy do?”

“The matter is pending investigation--”

“Yet our daughters are here awaiting punishment without regard for their motives? That’s a bit hasty, don’t you think?” Serena didn’t give him a chance to think. “I think we should hear the girls out, Captain. What do you say?”

Bernie clasped her hands behind her back.  “I think you’re right, Ms. Campbell.” She turned back to the two teenage girls in their matching uniforms. “Ladies, is there anything you’d like to share?”

Elinor sat right up, hands folded on her crossed legs.  She had star defendant written all over her stubborn face. “Oodles,” she said, and it sounded like a promise. Serena’s eyebrow inched up. Elinor was all set to put on a show.

Charlotte, on the other hand, was hiding behind her long blond hair. Bernie detected a soft wobble to her bottom lip and a resounding crack ran right down the center of her heart. Charlotte was too much like her mother when it came to shouldering shame without complaint.

Elinor looked to Charlotte and her ‘a star is born’ persona wilted. She grabbed Charlotte’s hand from her lap.  “Hey, it’s okay. You did nothing wrong. He was being a pr--erm, a pillock. You did  _nothing_  wrong, Charlotte.” She leaned down to gaze firmly into Charlotte’s eyes beneath her fringe and drill these words home. Charlotte’s lip was very much still a-wobble but she clung to Elinor’s hand and tossed back her hair to look her mother in the eye. They were dark as Bernie’s and red-rimmed from holding back tears.  Bernie was suddenly frightened to know what had gone on in her absence. What had she missed while half a world away? What had this boy done to Charlotte?

Serena and Bernie looked to each other for reassurance. This wasn’t normal and whatever happened they would get to the bottom of this--together, for their girls.

“Elinor, Charlotte. We need you to tell us what happened today.”

The girls shared a moment of nonverbal negotiation before Charlotte nodded. “I’ll go.” Elinor dragged her chair over to Charlotte’s so they could sit shoulder to shoulder. The look she shot the adults in the office dared them to tell her off for it. Charlotte smiled at her, a tiny, grateful quirk of the lips that Elinor mimicked. “Okay, so, er, Stev--”

“We shouldn’t use names, Charlotte,” the headmaster interjected.

“Let my daughter speak.” Bernie didn’t deign to favor the headmaster with a glance; he deserved none of her attention while her daughter warranted every ounce.

But Charlotte was rapidly losing her nerve and Elinor was losing the rather tenuous hold she had on her temper. The girls were as red in the face each other now. “His  _name_ is Steven Leoni. He plays polo and runs cross-country. He likes girls who say no; he thinks they’re a challenge. He likes sticking his hands up our skirts and down our shirts and laughing when we say stop--and yeah, we say it  _like we mean it_!” The sneer she directed at the headmaster was damning.  “I know his sister and his mother, and if you don’t let my friend alone, I’ll tweet all of that to the BBC and the Board of Governors with the hashtag #StBarneysPredator so that everybody knows the girls of St. Barnabas aren’t safe with him here. I’ll make sure they know you won’t protect us. When I’m done, you won’t be able to get a job cleaning windows in this county.”

“Ellie!” Charlotte hissed.

“No, I won’t have it. This is the fifth time he’s tried something on you and nobody listens. I won’t stand by while another girl gets hurt. Mr. Satterthwaite, you get rid of him or I’ll make you wish you had.”

Bernie’s stomach dropped. Five times. This Steven had singled out her Charlotte five times.  Marcus hadn’t mentioned it.  Marcus might not know, if Satterthwaite elected not to take Charlotte’s claims seriously.  Bernie counted backward from ten lest she throttle the man.  _Be at ease._  There wasn’t any hope of that.

“Are you threatening me, young lady?” Serena’s eyes narrowed and Bernie’s hackles rose at his tone. She’d learned to put the fear of Queen and Country into men who spoke to her like that. Elinor had no qualms about doing the same.

“I don’t threaten, I  _do._  Isn’t that right, Mum?”

Serena nodded, jaw tense. “I can’t argue with her. I won’t argue with her. In fact, I’ll  _help_ her. Unlike some, I won’t stand by while young girls are being victimized.” This she directed at Mr. Satterthwaite with a smile that promised very long parent-teacher meetings and press conferences and quiet resignations followed by complete professional ruin. It was a smile to fear. Bernie liked Serena’s smile.

“There’s no proof of these allegations,” he countered weakly.

“Because you won’t listen!” Elinor laughed. A tinge of hysteria colored the sound.  “Girls have told you. They’ve told the pastoral care teacher who brought it all to your attention. You won’t hear any of it. You think he’s too important, you think his future is more important than ours. Just say it!”

“That’s quite enough, young lady! I’m beginning to think St. Barnabas isn’t the institution for you.”

Serena stepped to the headmaster’s desk and loomed over the seated man.  “I’m sorry, are you threatening to expel my daughter for making an accusation of sexual harassment and/or assault? Think carefully about that before you act.”

“Very carefully,” cautioned Bernie. She had been watching Charlotte’s expression through all this, taking in her daughter’s white knuckles and blotchy face, how she couldn’t so much as look at Mr. Satterthwaite.  She didn’t need an affidavit attesting to the allegations Elinor was making with such vigor. The proof was in her daughter. Her bright girl who was furious and scared and grappling with the weight of both competing emotions far too young. 

“I don’t know what’s happened exactly, but I will find out. We will be making a formal complaint, not only against this Steven Leoni but against you, sir, because you seem averse to upholding your duty of care. So be it. Charlotte, let’s go. We’re going home.”

The headmaster made a valiant effort to reassert control of the proceedings. “We’re not finished here.”

“I think we are,” Serena answered on behalf of them all. “Ellie, let’s go. I think it’s time we had a talk with your father and our solicitor. Won’t that be fun for us all?”

They ushered their daughters out of the headmaster’s office past the administrative aide pretending not to eavesdrop and out to the corridor nearest the front entrance of the school. They moved silently but for the rhythmic thumping of Bernie’s rucksack against her back. Bernie didn’t know what to say. Charlotte was hugging her book bag and Elinor was watching her worriedly like a doting mother hen.

Serena touched Bernie’s arm, startling her from her indiscreet observation of the girls. “A word?”

Bernie nodded. She thought she might burst if she didn’t say something. It was what she might say that worried her.

“Ellie, would you mind keeping Charlotte company outside? I need to have a word with Captain Wolfe.”

Elinor transferred her pensive glance from Charlotte to Bernie.  “You have to promise not to get upset. She was totally in the right. It was my idea, she just went along with it. He was a prick  _and_ a lech, and I wasn’t going to watch him do that to her anymore, or anybody.  Be upset with  _me_. I can take it.”

Bernie was taken aback. From Charlotte’s open mouth, she guessed she wasn’t the only one. “I’m not upset with either of you. Defending yourself is square with me.”

“And me,” Serena agreed.  “You’re both in the clear. We’ll discuss what’s next later. Go on.”

Though Elinor didn’t look convinced, she put up no further protest. Charlotte followed her outside and they retreated to the front steps to pore over their mobile phones, nestled as close as two peas in a pod. Bernie and Serena watched over them to make sure there wouldn’t be tears just yet. None so far.

“Some mess this turned out to be, hmm?”

Bernie dropped her bag to the ground to give her spine a momentary respite.  “The worst. And it will only get worse because I’ll have to get the story out of Charlotte somehow. But how to do that without doing further damage?” How to do that without showing how furious she was that her daughter was facing the same dangers she had faced as woman and girl?

“Haven’t a clue.  Just tell her you love her and that you’re on her side.  I’ll do the same for Ellie.”

“You think he got to her, too?”

“He did, he must have. My daughter may be a budding feminist, but I know her to be primarily motivated by self-interest, same as most teenagers. She’s angry because he hurt her and her friends and nobody seems to care.”

“We’ll convince them otherwise?”

“You bet your arse we will.”

Outside, Charlotte said something, probably something sarcastic and dry as the desert sand, and Elinor laughed loud enough to be heard from inside the building. Everything life size in Elinor matched the small, treasured things in Charlotte. Bernie couldn’t see her daughter’s smile, but she guessed at its presence from the lowering of Charlotte’s hunched shoulders. In her daughter’s mind Elinor was safe; that made her safe to Bernie, too.  Bernie trusted her girl’s judgment; her heart might be soft but it beat true.

“Your daughter’s a lamb,” said Serena. That was Charlotte, calm as still water. Gentle as a babbling brook. Enduring.

“Yours is a lion.”  Elinor carried a ferocity inside her that put some soldiers to shame. Bernie wouldn’t see her punished for trying to make justice out of the little protection they’d been given, and certainly not for trying to protect Charlotte in the process.

“Not a bad combination, are they?”

“Not too bad, no.”

They made their way out of the school to join their daughters. 

“Do you two have a ride home, since you’re just getting in?”

Charlotte looked to her mother and Bernie blanched. She’d been so caught up getting caught up she’d forgotten to ring Marcus to drive them home.

Bernie swore.  “No, I need to call a taxi.”  Bernie swung her bag aside to reach the pocket holding her phone. It was an awkward reach and Serena took pity on her, bracing the bag in place to keep it from dangling.

“Let me drive you. I have a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other till this all gets sorted out, might as well make friends.”

Elinor rolled her eyes. Charlotte honked her mother’s laugh. Serena smiled on her fondly. Bernie liked Serena. She could do worse for a comrade-in-arms.

Bernie abandoned her phone search as her phone was not where she’d left it.  “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“So do I.”

This was a grim way to find a like-minded woman of a certain age to befriend.

The girls pretended not to notice the change in mood, hopping down the steps while chirping about the Jonas Brothers, whoever they were.

Bernie grunted under the weight of her things. She was done sleeping in strange places for at least four months.

Serena eyed her rucksack curiously.  “I could take that for you, give your shoulder a rest.” 

Bernie gave Serena cursory once-over. Serena looked as fit as anybody capable of enduring a six-hour surgery and remaining on their feet. It couldn’t all be pure grit.  “It’s pretty heavy.”

“You don’t think can carry it?”

“Erm...” Bernie had the sinking feeling she’d just encountered the most competitive person she’d meet outside Camp Bastion. “It’s meant for somebody who’s physically conditioned--no, never mind, that isn’t what I meant.”

Charlotte covered her face, groaning in secondhand embarrassment. Elinor snorted at the exchange. No help there.

Serena dug in her heels. “Hand it over, soldier.”

“I have a bad back, I can’t carry you if you throw yours out.” Which was not the right thing to say from Serena’s piqued expression.

“Is it the size of a fully-grown man?”

“No...”

“Give.”

Bernie handed the bag over for to Serena for lack of an excuse to refuse her. Something told her Elinor had inherited her sheer nerve from Serena, too.

Serena carefully donned Bernie’s hastily packed rucksack and immediately pulled a face.  “I wondered why somebody as fit as you are might be suffering from back pain. Let me wonder no more.”

“I can take it back.” She knew from experience the pain wasn’t anything a few stretches and a hot shower couldn’t ease.

“No, no, I’ve got it. Carry on. Lead the way down in case I lose my balance and need a strapping soldier to break my fall.”

“I don’t think that will help my back problem any.”

“Captain, I’ve done about all I can to help your back for the day. Lay on.”

Bernie started down the step front steps with one eye on the girls and the other on Serena. Both were going to be the death of her at this rate.

“If we’re going to be taking on the headmaster and the Board of Governors, I think you’d better call me Bernie.”

Serena smiled at Bernie, just a little mischievous under the strain she was trying not to show.  “Hello, Bernie. Welcome home.”

And what a homecoming it was. For better or worse, Bernie was living in interesting times.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Includes non-graphic references to repeated sexual harassment/assault, some slight gaslighting with implied victim blaming, that old patriarchal chestnut. (Inspired by this [mess](https://twitter.com/SarahLerner/status/891424750450335744).)
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com/post/163622344780/fic-unwilling-to-yield).
> 
> Come flail about Berena AUs with me on Tumblr at [sententiousandbellicose](sententiousandbellicose.tumblr.com).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, settings, or stories recognizable as being from Holby City. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.


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